


Maids of Dishonour

by EliMorgan



Series: Shots and Shorts [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bromance, Crossover, Darcy would still call it a bromance, F/F, Friendship, Marvelously Magical Fanfiction's Roll-A-Drabble, Some bad language, They just have self control problems, They love Jane and Parvati, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliMorgan/pseuds/EliMorgan
Summary: Jane and Parvati have spent ten years waiting for this, the day of their wedding.Darcy and Lavender have been waiting ten years for an excuse to get this drunk.





	Maids of Dishonour

**Author's Note:**

> **I do not own the works made use of herein, none of the Harry Potter/Marvel universe features or characters belong to me. I make no money from this work.**
> 
> Hi! I'm back!
> 
> Battled some chronic writer's block to churn this one out, please be kind. Written for September's Roll-A-Drabble over in Marvelously Magical Fanfiction's facebook group, in which I got Darcy/Lavender, Friendship.
> 
> This will be a little OOC, my apologies. Lavender is a bad influence.
> 
> Enjoy!  
Eliza x

"We meet again, my friend," warbled Darcy, making her way down the hall with her hands outstretched. Her sunglasses were so dark that even inside, Lavender couldn't discern her eyes. Not that she was trying very hard. 

"Please stop," she moaned, pressing her fingers to her temples in an attempt to assuage the endless pain. "This is your fault."

"I disagree," Darcy replied, huffing as she dropped into the seat next to Lavender. "Who suggested gillywater?" 

"Only after you made me shot tequila," Lavender argued, regretting it immediately. All noise was like nails on a chalkboard, and Hermione still refused to supply hangover potion, like the bitch she was.  _ It's your own fault _ , she'd said, far too gleefully.  _ What sort of a person would you be if you left your friend to suffer alone? _

A happy one, Lavender thought. One who could be looking after the bride like a good maid of honour, instead of being exiled to the corridor for moaning everytime someone giggled. 

But no, here she was, sat on the sofa of shame, nursing the hangover to end all hangovers. At least she wasn't alone, she supposed, though she would have gladly left Darcy to it if she could. 

Curious, she asked, "if there was a potion that could cure your hangover, but I couldn't take it, would you use it?" 

"In a heartbeat," Darcy answered, taking a swig from her flask. Lavender wasn't sure if it was hair of the dog or what, but she took it when offered. It burned on the way down. "Wait, is there one? Oh my Thor, yet another reason to be a wizard. I'm gonna steal your magic one day, I swear."

Lavender shrugged, unbothered by the daily threat. "There would be, except Hermione won't give me it."

"That bitch." Darcy offered her another sip. "I could taser her for you? Pretend Thor got a little handsy?" She winked, patting her suit pocket fondly. "I'll do it. It's that kind of morning."

"I can't believe you get pockets," Lavender sighed enviously. 

"That's what you get for cheating at the coin toss."

Lavender glanced down at her flouncy purple dress, then shrugged. "Worth it. At least I don't have to strap my tits down."

"It's itchy," Darcy whined. Lavender tugged on her hair. 

"I feel you, sister."

* * *

The wedding of Parvati Patil and Jane Foster was an event to be remembered. Or so Lavender and Darcy were told. They remembered as far as the walk down the aisle - Darcy escorted Lavender with a solemn frown, hamming up her 'bloke' role, while Lavender pranced and span and generally made a spectacle - but everything after that was a blur. 

The sun shone ungodly bright over the service, and as a result Lavender spent most of it with her hands cupped over her eyes. Darcy, on the other hand, seemed to revel in it, her face tipped up to its blinding rays, even after Jane confiscated her sunglasses. 

"How the hell are you doing that?" Lavender whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on the women stood before the altar. If she didn't blink, she wouldn't cry.

She wasn't sure whether the tears would be from the sun, or the event. 

"Practise," Darcy hissed back, perhaps a little too loudly, as some of the men from the front row whipped their heads around to glare at them. It was difficult being inconspicuous when you were stood directly in front of a brigade of super soldiers. Captain America was such a Serious Sally. Dull Deborah. Easily Offended Erica. 

Maybe she was still drunk. 

Darcy continued rambling. "If you stare at the sun, no-one suspects a thing. 'What sort of hungover person stares directly at the sun?', they ask themselves, and decide that they don't, so I must not be hungover. Bam! Fooled again."

"That sounds like a horrible idea."

"Yeah, it's not great," Darcy admitted, still facing upwards, her eyes slanted down on the brides as the Minister declared them wed. "But I'm not the one crying, so who's the real genius here?" 

Lavender touched a hand to her damp cheek and swore. She owed Darcy ten quid. 

* * *

They were huddled on the corner of the bridal party's table, sipping water and crowd watching. A slab of chocolate cake - double average size, because that's the sort of privilege you get when you threaten to tell the bride about that time her new wife peed her pants in second year - sat between them, each of them sneakily attempting to get the best bits. Lavender had just fought off Darcy's questing fork to claim the last buttercream rosette when Jane appeared before them.

"Aren't you going to dance?" she asked, one hand propped on her hips in her most determined stance. Parvati had taught her that. "Lots of 'hotties' here tonight."

"Yeah, but I've seen all of them peeing," Lavender complained, wrinkling her nose. "It sort of takes the shine off."

"That was a hostage situation. If they can get over seeing you vomit on the Hulk, you can get over a glimpse of weeing peen." That was Parvati, in her 'Mother Knows Best' voice. She'd developed that since her relationship with Jane, too. Sometimes your best friend finding true love was more annoying than nice. 

"Thank you, Janie, but we're busy," Darcy said, the picture of diplomacy. "We're celebrating."

"We're all celebrating," Parvati frowned. "It's-" 

"Ten years since Lavender and I met for the first time," Darcy finished, with a grin. "Ten years of following you two around the world, even though neither of us care about stars. Ten years of fun, chaos, and pure platonic sisterhood. Tell me, what guy can compete with that?" 

Jane and Parvati glanced at each other, then back to them. "Loki and Thor asked if you could spare them a-" 

Lavender was out of her seat in a second. "Bagsie Thor!" she cried. Darcy was right behind her, throwing grace to the wind as they raced onto the dance floor. 


End file.
